


After Cuba

by Ciacconne



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciacconne/pseuds/Ciacconne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik reacts, reflects and realizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Cuba

**Author's Note:**

> **After Cuba**  
>  XMFC. Hints at Erik/Charles, Raven/Charles and Erik/Raven. PG13. 1000+ words. For Clarounette who gave me an invite to AO3 (since I deleted my old one). If there are any canon inconsistencies or the characters are OOC, I do apologize. It’s been a while and I have a splitting headache right now. Urgh. Also, this is terribly angsty and I had a hard time writing it. Fair warning.

They weren’t thinking. They were survivors. They only knew how to react.  
  
At the time, all they knew was that they had to get away. Not to _run away_ because that would mean they had to admit defeat when in reality, they had won. But they needed to step back, to rest, to recollect and finally, to figure out a plan. It made sense to Erik. It was what he wanted to do, but when he tried to act upon his thoughts, he did something else entirely.  
  
The first three days, they had to make sure they weren’t being tracked or traced. Erik and his group were quite literally hopping from sleazy motels, to barns and if he was feeling generous (he could be, when he wanted to; he wasn’t a complete utter snob unlike someone he once knew), to private high class hotels. He thanked Emma Frost for that; she only had to use her charm to secure entrances to such luxurious places.  
  
The next four days, Erik had to see to it that Charles had made it to the hospital and was recovering. He couldn’t do this directly. He asked Raven who then reconnected with Hank to see how Charles was doing and suffice to say, the man was not coping very well at all. There was an accusing look in Raven’s eyes when she informed Erik that _Charles couldn’t walk anymore._  
  
And it’s your fault, those hard yellow eyes said. Your fault.  
  
She loved Charles after all, but Erik wasn’t going to admit that to Charles. The days that led up to their final encounter with Shaw were still fresh in his mind, distracting him from everything else, from what was truly important— the _present_. Finally, his Creator was dead. Not alive. Not moving. The memories were still there, but the burden of uncertainty, of not knowing whether Shaw was dead or alive, was gone.  
  
By the beginning of the second week, the process of figuring out his next move had begun. The mutants who could easily pass for humans had gathered enough information for him to sink his teeth into and from the newspapers, word-of-mouth and television, the world was still _reeling_.  
  
“Mutants!“ the humans gasped. “They exist! They must be stopped!“ Erik could only laugh at that and so did the rest of his group, which in some ways, he personally appreciated.  
  
Two days later, he thought they finally had something together. As far as he knew, Charles’ plans have not changed. Despite what had happened to him, he still wanted to set up his school and to gather mutants for it. For what, Erik truly didn’t know. The school seemed more like a hiding place than anything else. For that, he could only feel disgust.  
  
Erik had one goal now and that was to stop the humans from killing his kind, the mutant kind, by doing whatever means necessary (even if he had to work with Charles again, but he doubted the man would ever let him near him at the moment based on Raven’s expressive, hurtful glances. She was grieving.).  
  
With the second week coming to an end, he decided that he needed a break. He departed from the rest of the group and stayed in his hotel room. It felt like the old days again. He was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall. Other than his black pants, he was naked. He had a glass of wine in his left hand and something metal in his right. The metal was changing, shifting, morphing—into anything he wanted. The metal felt hot yet cool to the touch.  
  
The helmet stood by the bedside table. He suddenly came to regret removing it from his head when something familiar slipped into his thoughts.  
  
 _Erik…_  
  
His concentration broke. Then the metal dropped from his hand and landed with an audible thud on the soft white carpet. He looked down and saw the final shape the mental had taken. Small. A dull spear tip. Like a bull—  
  
Charles’ pale face. Red lips like blood. Bright blue eyes filled with unmistakable pain.  
  
Betrayal.  
  
“He can’t walk anymore.”  
  
It’s your fault.    
  
Guilt wrecked whatever conscience he had left. It was an accident. But he still couldn’t let it go. He had hurt his closest friend, the only man who had told him that he wasn’t alone.  
  
The metal around the room began to shake, the metal on the floor, the railings of the bed, the frames of the pictures on the walls and the very foundation at which the room was built upon.  
  
What have I done?  
  
He began to drink his wine. He allowed time to pass as the warmness of the wine sank into his body and made the world turn into the blackness and oblivion of sleep.  
  
-o-  
  
Raven watched her superior walk into what they called the meeting room, a gray place, devoid of any means of Charles getting a glimpse of their thoughts. Erik went by the name of Magneto now. He was mutant and proud. Powerful and proud. He arrived at the conference table, acknowledged his fellow mutants with a firm look and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, take your seat. It’s time.”  
  
Us against them, she thought. After hearing what had happened to Charles, those were the only words that had kept her going on this path. Charles’ strategy was to hide from the rest of the world. Erik’s strategy was to expose the world to them. Make them see that they were there. Force them to realize that they weren’t afraid anymore. That they were going to fight back.  
  
And yet, as the meeting went on, there was a certain stiffness in Erik’s usually confident countenance. His words were short and clipped. He had less patience for those who didn‘t understand the nuances of his plans right away. By the end of it, Emma Frost was smiling icily at him, her smile was cruel.  
  
“Magneto—” Raven started.  
  
“Stop,” he said coolly, calmly, even as pain flashed in his eyes. With Emma Frost watching, wanting to expose any possible weaknesses, any reason to declare him an absolute fool to lead them all, he said nothing else and simply walked away.  
  
-o-  
  
They were in bed together. They had explored each other’s skin and flesh mere moments ago. They were lying still now, side by side. All they could think about was—  
  
“He will be able to forgive me.”  
  
It was a statement. She rearranged the words, felt the grief and the hope and the desperation in the question and decided to have mercy on him, even though he hadn’t done the same for her a few months back.  
  
“In time.”  
  
End.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Not quite proud of this one. This hurt to write, jesus christ. I’m gonna go write some porn for another fandom now. Sob.
> 
> Good god, I looked over this like 5 times. I’m done. *scurries off*


End file.
